


Anything You Can Do...

by Joe_Reaves



Category: Primeval
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joe_Reaves/pseuds/Joe_Reaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen and Lyle engage in a little 'friendly' competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything You Can Do...

Ryan leaned back in his chair, looking down on the shooting range from the gallery. He watched as Lyle checked out guns, ammunition, and ear defenders for himself and Stephen. The two men had been rubbing each other up the wrong way ever since they'd met and it had got to the stage that you only had to put them in a room together for sparks to fly. After one particular argument, Lyle had challenged Stephen to a little competition. Ryan would probably have warned him that it was a bad idea, but the one time he'd brought the fights up with Lyle the other man had snapped his head off, so he'd kept his mouth shut. Let Lyle find out the hard way.

"Did you tell him about Hart's experience?" Ditzy asked, taking the chair next to Ryan and handing him a beer.

"Must have slipped my mind," Ryan said, innocently.

Ditzy shook his head. "You know Lyle's going to kill you when he finds out."

Ryan smirked. "I don't know. This is either going to end up with them beating the crap out of each other or shagging like rabbits. If it's the latter, he might have to thank me."

Down on the range, Lyle was smiling smugly. Stephen put up a good front but no zoologist was going to be able to out-shoot him, no matter how good the other man thought he was. He'd happily take the arrogant sod down a few pegs – a few weeks a year shooting wild animals with a tranq rifle did not a marksman make.

He checked his gun and ammunition and then tried to adopt a casual tone as he addressed the other man. "How about we make this a little more interesting?"

Stephen raised an eyebrow. It would be nice to wipe that smirk of Lyle's face, but he wasn't completely confident that he could beat the soldier. He was a little out of practice and he was sure that life or death situations probably honed your aim a lot better than competition ever could. "What did you have in mind?"

Leaning back against the wall, Lyle looked the other man over slowly, taking in the long, lean form, the confident bearing, just the tiniest glimpse of chest hair through the deep V of his t-shirt, and the big blue eyes framed with the darkest lashes Lyle had ever seen on a man. He smiled slowly. "If I win, I want to see those pretty lips of yours wrapped around my cock."

He didn't miss the flash of lust in Stephen's eyes, quickly hidden behind his normal cool mask. Oh yes, when he won this competition he was going to have a great deal of fun with the young man opposite. He just knew that with looks like Stephen's he must have plenty of experience in the bedroom.

Stephen straightened his spine and tilted his chin arrogantly, faking the confidence he definitely wasn't feeling. He wasn't sure he wanted to take the bet – the last thing he needed when he was trying to earn the respect of the soldiers was a reputation as a slut. He didn't need to spend the rest of his time on this project fighting off unwelcome advances. On the other hand, he was good, he knew he was, and Lyle wasn't expecting that. If he could just hold his nerve and beat the cocky bastard, he could turn the tables on him. "Fine," he said, coolly. "But if I win I get to fuck you."

"That's hardly a balanced bet," Lyle pointed out, slightly surprised by the warmth coiling in his stomach at that suggestion.

"But you don't think you're going to lose anyway. So what does it matter what you're betting? Unless of course you're worried ..."

Lyle knew Stephen was baiting him but he couldn't resist. "Of course not. It's about time you saw what a professional can do."

Stephen held his hand out and Lyle shook it firmly.

"You go first," Stephen said. "I can't wait to see a real professional in action." He emphasised the word 'professional' and smiled challengingly at Lyle.

Lyle slipped his ear defenders on and pushed the button that would send a new target down to the end of the range. He could almost feel the other man's eyes on him as he took the safety off and raised the gun. He smirked. Stephen Hart wasn't going to know what hit him and then Lyle was finally going to get the blow job he'd been fantasising about since the first moment he'd looked into those deep blue eyes. Maybe he could crack the iceman's shell.

All he had to do now was win his bet.


End file.
